


Reaching the River

by maxcellwire



Category: Haikyuu!!
Genre: Fluff and Angst, Historical References, M/M, University
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-09-01
Updated: 2016-09-01
Packaged: 2018-08-12 01:56:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7915990
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/maxcellwire/pseuds/maxcellwire
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Grand King and his loyal commander, that’s what Oikawa and Iwaizumi have always been. Mentally and physically joined, they know each other inside out, and something as small as going to separate universities won’t be enough to come between their bond. But history always repeats itself, and now it's looking for an heir. With titles come responsibilities, and the time has come for the King to step up and choose whether he would sacrifice everything for greatness.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Reaching the River

**Author's Note:**

> oh boy i finally managed to get somewhere with this. my first haikyuu fic!! i cannot believe
> 
> this fic was written as part of the 2016 Big Bang event which has been a really fun experience, so of course i want to say a massive thank you to hanahimus for betaing this and being super patient with all my questions and procrastination! even if half the stuff i asked them about didn't end up in this chapter, they were super helpful and i can't thank them enough for that
> 
> also a huge thank you to the amazing alpatcha who has done the companion work for this piece: http://alpatcha.tumblr.com/post/149769004629/my-submission-for-the-haikyuu-big-bang-my-writer isn't it amazing?! i absolutely love it, it's like all my dreams come true, so check it out! 
> 
> this fic happened because i love ancient history and i love iwaoi, so i hope you'll enjoy it too :)

Tooru was stirring his noodles absently when he felt the vibration of his phone in his pocket.

 **Iwa-chan (** **งಠ** **_** **ಠ** **)** **ง**

_Guess who else is on the Keio team_

_ushiwaka?_

_...ugh thankfully not._

_It’s Sawamura from Karasuno_

_the one who received my serve?_

_Of course you remember him for that. He’s a good guy_

_He says Kageyama’s well, by the way._

_why would i need to know this_

_how was practice anyway?_

Tooru kept an eye on his phone for updates as he served up his ‘meal’, drumming his fingers impatiently on the table surface. He wasn’t used to waiting so long for Hajime’s response; their texts before moving to Tokyo had been far and few between, only sent in the rare instances that they weren’t at each other’s sides. This new distance between them was alien and uncomfortable.

Everything about moving to university had just felt a little…off. He was excited, of course he was, and the reminder that he would be on the court again the next day was enough to make his heart beat that little bit faster. But there was an acute loneliness, only exacerbated by the fact that he was sat alone in their corridor’s pokey kitchen eating quick-cook ramen in his pyjamas. The student life would definitely take some adjusting to.

As soon as his phone buzzed again, Tooru immediately unlocked it and grinned down at Hajime’s message.

_It was good, yeah, but it might take a while to get back up to standard again. The gym is massive, even bigger than Sendai’s, but fewer club members than at Seijou. I think we’ve got a pretty strong team this year, though - you’d better watch out!_

_Waseda will always be stronger than Keio, especially now they’ve got me on their team!_ _(_ _･_ _ω <) _ _☆_

_Wow, that’s not vain at all._

_who was it that insisted i was the best setter they knew?_

_Okay, shut up now._

_iwa-chan can i call you?_

_Give me 5 minutes to get back to my room_

Tooru wasn’t counting. He _wasn’t_. But he waited with his finger hovering over the screen, spinning his dirty bowl on its rim and watching it travel across the table. There was a kind of hollow space in his existence that came with being idle, when he had no plans or places to be. It was rare for Oikawa Tooru to ever sit down and do nothing like this, but the weeks that had passed since they’d left Aoba Jousai had been occupied by nothing but leftover paperwork and tearful last meals with their friends.

The first note of his ringtone had barely sounded before he answered the call.

“That was longer than 5 minutes, Iwa-chan. I counted at least 6. Maybe 7.”

“Quit your whining already, I’m tired from practice. Even on the other side of the city you’re still just as annoying,” Hajime grumbled in response, but he made no move to cut off the conversation.

“What are you doing right now?”

“Changing out of my gym clothes, why?”

“Just wondering.” Familiar images flashed through Tooru’s mind, clips of the team changing together after practice, laughing over the trashy magazines Yahaba stashed in his locker or Kindaichi’s flushed cheeks when he was caught staring. A wistful smile caught on his lips. “Tell me more about practice. Do you know if you’re a starting member?”

“Not yet. Coach is going to observe us for the next week before making his decision. Looks like I’ll have to be on my guard the whole time, since all the others look really strong, and I doubt the older students would take too kindly to some snotty first year stealing their position. If I slack off for a second, that’ll be it, probably.” His voice sounded tired already, a sigh crackling over the line.

“You’re not just a snotty first year, though. My Iwa-chan is the strongest spiker I know!”

“Hah. Thanks.”

“I mean it! They’d be stupid not to pick you. You’ve always been good on a team, your spikes are super powerful, and your receives are just as strong as Sawamura’s. Don’t tell me you’re going to let him beat you?” Hajime barked a laugh.

“No way. He’ll be a useful teammate soon enough, but for this week we’re rivals for sure.”

“Did you recognise anybody else there?”

“Nah, I think we’re the only two from Miyagi. Nobody else too high profile, either, but strong just the same.”

“Any good setters?”

“Their current setter is a third year, he seems pretty experienced.”

“Better than me?” Hajime was quiet for a moment, and Tooru felt his heart leap into his throat at the possibility he might say ‘yes’.

“You know the answer to that.” A relieved smile graced his features as he cradled his phone in both hands, closing his eyes so that he could almost picture Hajime there with him, leaning across his kitchen table in their old blazers and lilac shirts.

“Just checking.”

There was a lull in the conversation for a moment, the kind of comfortable silence that would settle between them whenever they worked beside each other in Hajime’s bedroom, or on their daily walks back from school. Sometimes there was no need for words, other times words weren’t enough.

Hajime cleared his throat, breaking the silence.

“Your first practice is tomorrow, right?” Tooru hummed in response. “Are you worried?”

Tooru debated briefly whether to smooth it over with a lie or not. Hajime had always been good at telling when he was omitting the truth, but that was when they were in person, when he could see the angles of his smiles or the twisting of his fingers. Over the phone it was a little more difficult.

So would he tell him that yes, he _was_ worried, worried that his new teammates would look down on him for never going to Nationals, that he would never surpass their current setter and be left warming the bench for years?

“No, not really.”

“That’s a good sign, I guess. When you’re confident, you’re more likely to do your best.”

Tooru bit his lip, inexplicably disappointed that Hajime hadn’t seen through him, despite not really wanting him to.

“That’s the plan, Iwa-chan! I’ve got to make sure I’m on the team that beats you in June.”

It was always so easy to catch Hajime out by falling into their usual banter, distracting him from other matters with teasing and jokes. As they settled into their conversation, interspersed with the familiar comfort of Hajime’s laughter, it was almost like everything was normal.

**

**Call History**

**Iwa-chan (** **งಠ** **_** **ಠ** **)** **ง**

2:43:26

Monday, 8 April 2013, 19:32

**

Waseda’s gym was enormous. For a moment, Tooru forgot about all his anxieties as he struggled to take in the magnificence of it. The lights were blinding, the floor stretching endlessly in front of him. Each step echoed around the high ceilings, and for a second he imagined himself standing in front of a crowd, heard the cheers and the between-set music, felt the weight of a crimson uniform on his back.

There’s a reason why university sports are so intense. Just being in a gym like this would fire up anybody to become a professional, and Tooru felt that familiar spark crackling away in his chest, the excitement that clenches his fists and heightens his awareness. He could sense others milling around him, heard the wheels of the volleyball cart squeaking and the chatter of their seniors watching them from the other side of the court.

“All right, everybody line up!” the coach ordered, his voice booming through the large court. There were five first years standing beside him, dressed in their mismatched gym clothes. Tooru glanced down the line at them, marking their faces to memory. One of them was definitely a libero, barely reaching Tooru’s shoulders, and another one had the perfect build for a middle blocker, but none of them seemed familiar. He wasn’t sure if he was relieved or disappointed.

“Okay, I’m sure you guys know the drill by now. Just introduce yourself one by one, and then we’ll get started with some basic fitness drills.”

Names passed him by quickly, and Tooru should probably have been paying attention to them, but instead his eye was caught by the reactions of his seniors across the gym. There weren’t too many of them, perhaps twenty in total, but they were all watching the newbies closely, assessing them before they’d even begun, and it was then that he knew he’d have to impress more than just the coach if he wanted to make an impact.

“Pleased to meet you, my name is Oikawa Tooru. I was captain of our team at Aoba Jousai High School in Miyagi Prefecture, and I play setter. I look forward to working with you!”

As he lifted himself out of his bow, he caught sight of some of the others whispering to each other, slight elbow nudges and glances in his direction. Head held high, he ignored them and followed the coach’s orders, effortlessly beginning their laps around the hall’s edge.

Soon enough, there was another boy jogging at his side, watching him out the corner of his eye but not saying a word. When Tooru pushed himself harder, faster, in an attempt to lose him, the boy simply sped up alongside him, easily matching his pace despite his shorter stature. Tooru was sure he spotted the glint of a grin on his face before they reached the end of their fifth lap.

The boy was still beside him as they were guided into stretches, and it was when Tooru bent forward with his hands resting on his bad knee that he finally spoke.

“You shouldn’t press so hard when stretching that leg if you’ve got a knee injury or you’ll strain it more. Have you told the coach about it yet?”

Tooru turned at the sound of his voice, eyes narrowing, but he eased some of the pressure of his leg and switched his attention to his arms.

“Oikawa Tooru, right?”

Tooru nodded suspiciously.

“I’m Yaku Morisuke, libero from Nekoma in Tokyo. We held some joint training camps with Karasuno; you were mentioned more than a few times.” Tooru cocked his head, his thoughts drawn to their multiple battles with Karasuno and the desperation of his last toss to Hajime.

“All bad things, I hope?” he teased, shoving his negative thoughts aside.

Yaku grinned.

“Depends on your definition of bad. From what I’ve gathered, you seem to have been a pretty formidable opponent.”

He pulled fluidly out of his stretch, shaking out his loose limbs as he watched Tooru do the same.

“Then I hope now you’ll find me to be a formidable ally.”

They were split into groups for a short match so that the coach could assess their abilities, and Tooru took this chance to observe his new team and the way they slotted together. Out of the new first years, only Yaku had ever been to Nationals, and for a moment Tooru allowed himself to wonder where all the powerful spikers of their generation would end up, and whether he would be facing them in the forthcoming University Tournament. But between them they had plenty of experience, and from what he could tell, the senior members had already formed a solid team, connecting smoothly and making up for each other’s mistakes.

It was between two sets, when they were changing sides on the court, that Tooru felt a tug on his arm, and he turned to face one of the third year students who had been watching him earlier. He was slightly taller than Tooru, with messy black hair that reminded him of Matsukawa, but his friendly smile contrasted with the commanding stance of his arms crossed over his chest.

“Oikawa-kun, right? I thought I recognised you from somewhere. You were featured in Volleyball Monthly a few times, weren’t you?”

“A couple, yes. The media seemed to enjoy our team’s matches.”

“That’s pretty impressive, making it onto the radar even though your team didn’t reach Nationals. You’ve got something of a reputation among the university teams.”

Tooru jerked his head in surprise. He had known that Volleyball Monthly had a decent circulation, but he hadn’t expected people to be paying much attention to the small articles that featured Seijou, especially since they had always been outshone by Shiratorizawa, and more recently by Karasuno. Being well-known among Miyagi teams was one thing; having your name on the lips of some of the strongest teams in Tokyo was another, and it sent a pleasant little shiver down Tooru’s spine.

“Sounds like I’ve got quite a name to live up to,” he said, trying to keep the excitement out of his voice. The older student laughed cheerfully.

“I’m sure you’ll manage. I’m Yudai, by the way. Middle blocker. I hope you’ll have a great four years here.”

**

 **Module:** Legal Skills

 **Credits:** 20

 **Description** : In this module you will learn how to research cases and produce effective reports using data analysis and word processing. This module is compulsory and will be exceptionally useful for your coursework in your other modules.

 **Timetable:** One weekly lecture at 10:00 Thursday. Seminar times to be decided in the first….

**

It was a month later at their first practice match that he truly understood. The coach had turned to them all as they donned their bibs and started to warm up, preparing to address the starting members and discuss tactics. Tooru was listening in carefully as he stretched, curious about their plans for the match, when he overheard something that made his lips curve up into a determined smile:

“About halfway through the first set, if we’re doing well then feel free to expend all your energy on doing your absolute best,” he suggested, eyeing their top spikers. “Today is a good chance to see what the first years are like in a match and how they’ll cope at university level, so if we’ve got the first set in the bag, we can swap them in for the second set without risking defeat. All clear?”

All clear indeed. The new motivation only made Tooru more focussed, watching each of the opposing team to determine their strengths and weaknesses, making sure that he kept his muscles nice and warm during the first set so that he’d be at his best from the moment he got to step on the court.

They had won the first set easily, and a small contingent of supporters who had followed them cheered raucously in the stands. The coach called everyone together with a clap of his hands.

“Great work as expected, guys,” he congratulated them, “Yamazaki, that last spike was excellent but quite close to the net, maybe check your footwork during the break. Now, first years!” The small group jumped to attention at the sound of their names, eager to impress. “You’re in. Show us what you’re made of.”

As soon as he heard those words, Tooru felt the usual thrill humming in his chest, the excitement of being in game, the connection of the ball between the players. This was everything he lived for, and after a month of studying and practising as hard as he could, finally he had the chance to prove his worth.

As they stepped on the court, the noise grew louder, the spectators chattering excitedly. Tooru was used to the appreciation of his female fans, but to look up at the stands and have other teams’ supporters gossiping about him was something else.

“There he is!”

“Ohh, the setter? I recognise him!”

“Apparently he was called The Grand King at high school.”

“Surely he can’t be _that_ good, he’s only a first year.”

Tooru looked down at the ball clasped in his hands and smiled wryly. The only person who had ever called him by that name was Karasuno’s Chibi-chan, but it seemed word had spread and now he had a title to live up to.

“Oikawa, nice serve!”

He exhaled deeply, allowing his mind to clear until every sense was focused on the ball in his hands and the smooth leather beneath his fingertips. If he was going to prove himself a grand king, he would have to do what he did best. With a flick of his hand, the ball flew through the air, and he allowed his feet to carry him forwards, one, two, three steps, hand arcing through the air and sending the ball soaring over the net with a smack.

They won the game 3-0.

**

 **Oikawa Tooru** @daiousama

First win with the Waseda team!! Tokyo won't know what hit it (*¯︶¯*)

 

 **Hanamaki Takahiro** @screampuffs

@daiousama It was only a practice match, Hanger, don't get cocky

 

 **Matsukawa Issei** @issayyy

@daiousama How ever will Tokyo protect itself from His Nerdiness…

 

 **Kindaichi Yuutarou** @rakkyou_head

@daiousama Congratulations senpai!

 

 **Oikawa Tooru** @daiousama

@screampuffs @issayyy You two should be more like Kindaichi and respect me!!

**

“Hey, Iwa-chan, do you believe in reincarnation?” Tooru asked one day, swivelling around on his desk chair. Hajime frowned at him from the Skype window in the corner of his screen.

“Where did that come from? Aren’t you meant to be working?”

“Tort Law is boring. I got distracted,” he said by way of explanation, and Hajime scoffed. “Anyway, you didn’t answer my question. Do you?”

“Dunno. I’ve not really paid much thought to it before. I can’t see how it would actually be possible though.”

Tooru hummed as he scrolled down the website he was browsing through, waiting for the question he knew was coming:

“So what made you ask that, then? Another unproductive Wikipedia odyssey?”

“Not quite. You know how Chibi-chan used to call me the Grand King?”

“What, that bullshit nickname?” Hajime laughed. “Yeah, I remember that. You think you’re a king reincarnated?”

“Well…maybe.”

There was silence from Hajime as he gaped at Tooru through the screen, scanning his face for any hints of joking. No doubt he’d break into a stupid grin within five minutes and tease Hajime for being so gullible.

“Look, I know you don’t believe me, but I was looking up the nickname because people here have mentioned it and I wondered, y’know, if people have been talking about me online – which they _have_ , by the way. But anyway, there was this guy called Alexander back in Ancient Greece and he was called The Grand King too. _And_ we share a birthday! It seems too weird to be a coincidence, right?”

“You are absolutely out of your mind,” Hajime deadpanned, shaking his head. “Comparing yourself to an ancient conqueror? That’s a new level of vanity even for you, Stupidkawa.”

“But there are so many similarities! He had this great dream too, of conquering Persia just like his father had tried to do. They say he never lost a battle.”

“Then it’s definitely not true, you’ve lost plenty of battles.” Tooru pouted. “Seriously, how many people in the world do you think share the same birthday as you? There’s probably a million people in Japan alone who were born on the same day. And as for big dreams, don’t we all have them? Why would you, a volleyball nerd from Japan, be the reincarnated soul of a warlord from Ancient Greece-“

“Technically it was Macedonia,” Tooru interrupted.

“Whatever, my point still stands. Even if this guy had been Japanese it’d be a crazy conspiracy, but he was European! Do you have anything in common other than your birthday?”

Tooru was quiet for a moment, allowing Hajime to think that he’d won. And just as the other boy was settling back into his own desk chair, satisfied that he’d convinced Tooru out of a new obsession, Tooru found an answer.

“Alexander had a best friend, Hephaestion. He made him his second-in-command.”

Hajime’s stern expression wavered, and Tooru caught the twitch of curiosity in his lips, pressing on eagerly.

“They’d been educated together in childhood, and they went everywhere together. Hephaestion was really good at military strategy, and if Alexander was the King, Hephaestion was the Vice-King. Sound familiar?”

Hajime huffed, turning from the screen with a slight flush in his cheeks that told Tooru he was interested, even if he didn’t want to admit it.

“It’s still not exactly a rare occurrence,” he muttered, “it doesn’t mean anything at all. It’s cool that you share the same nickname but there’s no reason to let it get to your head.”

“But Iwa-chan, don’t you want to be my second-in-command, my Vice-King, my knight in shining armour?” Tooru whined, winking playfully.

“Don’t be ridiculous. I bet that Hephaestion guy wasn’t even that important.”

“Not true! This page says he was _very_ important. You wouldn’t pick someone unimportant to be the leader of the army.”

“Well go on then, tell me what happened to him. If he was so important, why do people only care about Alexander?”

“I’m sure he couldn’t help being overshadowed by someone as brilliant as The Grand King himself,” Tooru sang as he skimmed through a biography of Hephaestion, hiding his disappointment at catching little other about him than his relationship to Alexander. There _had_ to be something he’d done himself, right? “I’m sure you must know how that feels, Iwa-chan.”

“I don’t care if it takes an hour to get across Tokyo by train, I’m coming over there to punch you.”

Tooru was about to laugh, but it was cut off by the sudden lump in his throat, forcing an ugly sound from his throat as he laid eyes on the final paragraph. A sudden weight sank in his chest, and Hajime noticed the change in mood immediately.

“What is it?” he asked. “Did you find out what happened to him?”

Tooru shook his head slowly as his eyes traced the page, every damning word, and suddenly his joking from earlier didn’t seem so funny.

“No, there’s not much evidence left. He probably died of old age or something like that. It doesn’t really say.”

“Oh. That sucks, but it’s kind of predictable, I guess.”

“Yeah, I guess.”

“Oikawa, is everything all right?” Tooru forced a smile to his face, one that he knew Hajime could see through but he wore whenever he didn’t want to talk about it, warding off any prying eyes.

“Of course, Iwa-chan. So how are you finding that Physiology homework? You always needed my help with Chemistry at school.”

**

**Excerpt from ‘Alexander: The Quest for Invincibility’ by Kaitlin Seymour**

_Hephaestion’s death followed this period of instability, during a brief respite from the fighting within Alexander’s ranks. Alexander was hosting a festival at the town of Ecbatana to celebrate his successes when Hephaestion took ill. His fever raged for a whole week, but he was unable to hang on, and he passed before Alexander could reach him._

_Although we have already discussed the wildly differing nature of the contemporary sources concerning Alexander, there is one thing that they all agree on: Alexander’s grief at his friend’s passing was beyond any other known to the world. He embraced Hephaestion’s corpse and was unable to be consoled, longing for the presence of his other half. Even after he had been pried away and calmed down by his men, he insisted on a gigantic public funeral and decorated Hephaestion with semi-divine honours._

_Alexander never recovered from his heartbreak. It would take just half a year for his dwindling passion for life to escape him before he rejoined his beloved in the afterlife._

_**_

May rolled into June, and each day was filled with lectures and practice and trips to the library, books piling up on Tooru’s desk until there was barely any room to work. Each night he came home with sore feet, strained muscles and a wide smile, the rush of a good training session driving him forward through the nights of five hours’ sleep, the deadlines and the challenges and everything that came with the first year of university. Chatting with Hajime became infrequent, calls home less frequent still, but the whirlwind of Tokyo swept Tooru up in its pace and refused to let go.

Evenings were spent practising with their current setter Kobayashi, learning from him how their spikers worked, whose quicks were the most reliable, who to use as a decoy and all the rest. The coach watched on from the sidelines, observing their every movement and keeping his expression neutral whenever Tooru happened to look over. All he could do was take in everything he was being told and put it into practice, hoping beyond all hope that it would be enough to get him onto the first string.

“You’re not just a normal setter, are you?” Kobayashi had laughed one day as they took a break, Tooru chugging from his water bottle and quirking an eyebrow. Kobayashi shook his head as he panted, resting his hands on his knees to try and catch his breath. “It took me the whole of last year to sync up a quick set with Fujinaka, but you come in here and manage it within the first few weeks.”

Tooru frowned, drying his lips with the back of his hand.

“I only did what you told me to. Fujinaka seems to take a larger second step than most spikers, so the ball has to be a little bit closer to the net, as you said, and reach its peak just a bit slower than for Nakano. None of that matters, though, if I can’t get it to him in the right place during a match. I’ve yet to get a reading on his typical movements in a match; you’ll have to show me next week.”

“Jeez,” Yudai muttered from beside them, “Kobayashi, you’d better watch out! Looks like someone’s got his sights set on your position.”

Kobayashi shrugged and smiled lazily.

“I knew that from the second the Grand King stepped into our gym. It was going to happen eventually.”

“You’re not bothered?”

For a second, Tooru saw himself in Kobayashi’s place, a young Kageyama Tobio eagerly watching him and begging to be taught how to set for their team. Did Kobayashi now feel that desperation not to be left behind in his own chest? Did he see Tooru in the way he had seen Tobio, as an imposter grabbing at his hard-earnt position with ungrateful hands?

Tooru glanced away, pretending he wasn’t paying attention, and watching the balls being bumped back and forth across the net.

“Nah, I don’t mind too much. He seems more invested in it than I am, you know? Volleyball’s just a hobby for me, but this guy is way too intense not to want to take it further.” Kobayashi glanced back at Tooru, noticing the way he was focussed intently on something as simple as passing, storing everybody’s techniques in his mind. “Doesn’t mean I’m going to just step back and let him take it from me, though. I’ve got a few tricks left up my sleeve.”

And despite Tooru's hesitation at depriving Kobayashi of a starting position, the thought of a new challenge only managed to spur him on further.

Monday evenings remained sacred, a wind-down time saved for delving into the history of this Alexander the Great, deaf to the chatter of his fellow students gathering in the common room as he devoured book after book after book, desperate to find some kind of happy ending. It had all seemed so promising at first, Alexander’s life constantly filled with success and power from the moment he took charge of Macedonia. It was everything Tooru had ever wanted, to achieve his dreams and conquer his fears, to overcome every obstacle and survey his kingdom from the highest peak, tracing the rivers as they curved into the horizon.

It wasn’t fair that Alexander’s life had ended with such heartbreak. It wasn’t fair that Hephaestion still had more to give and was cut short. But every report came to the same conclusion of loss and despair, the inevitable ending that Tooru just couldn’t escape. His thoughts tied themselves into Gordian knots, his dreams plagued by the creeping loneliness that seemed to eat him from the inside out, the anguished screams of a mortal king brought to his knees. If he were in Alexander’s place, faced with Hajime’s still, fever-ridden body, he too would cry enough tears to flood the Hirose river and let Sendai be swept away by the weight of his grief.

The thought was too much to bear.

**

**6:37am, new voicemail received**

“Yoohoo Iwa-chan, happy birthday! I wanted to be the first person to tell you that like usual, but I’m guessing you’ve already left for practice, so maybe I’m not. You work too hard, you know! Iwa-chan needs his sleep if he wants to grow as tall as the great Oikawa-san! Anyway, you should probably check your post before I call you back later. I’ll know if you haven’t, okay? Oh, and send me a selfie so I know you haven’t grown any grey hairs. It’s been _ages_ since I last saw your face. Speak to you later, Iwa-chan!”

**

Sports fever arrived in the summer, the campus brewing with excitement as the sports teams prepared for the annual Waseda-Keio competition. The evenings grew longer and longer, the light sky greeting Tooru as he left the gym for another evening, and the metro journeys to and from campus were stiflingly hot. The other commuters were lethargic and idle, murmuring into their phones or resting their heads against the windows for some relief from the humidity, but for Tooru summer meant competition. It meant high school championships and late night practising in the park with Hajime, taking the team for ice cream on the weekend and supervising Takeru on a Monday afternoon. Each morning he woke up to the sun’s rays and imagined all the day’s opportunities spread out before him.

On the day of the Waseda-Keio volleyball match it rained. Tooru rushed from the metro station into their gym, holding his bag above his head to protect his hair from the onslaught.

“Looks like Oikawa wasn’t prepared for the rainy season either!” Yudai laughed, nodding at another first year who was wringing his shirt in the corner. “Don’t you know you’re supposed to carry an umbrella with you at all times during the summer? It avoids awkward situations like this.”

“I was _planning_ on being in the gym all day, why would I need an umbrella for a few seconds’ sprint from the metro station?” Tooru grumbled, peeling his wet jacket from his back as he changed into his new uniform. He held up his jersey as he pulled it from his bag, admiring the W embroidered onto the corner of the maroon fabric and stroking a hand over the 21 printed right in the centre. Each jersey was special, marked a step in the making of Oikawa Tooru, from the dark blue of his first Kitagawa Daiichi jersey, to the Seijou captain’s turquoise, and now this, his first jersey on the university team. Just sliding it over his head gave a spring to his step, the confidence of being one of a twenty-four strong team.

From inside the gym came the usual noises of practice, the net being set up in the centre as the players chatted, trainers squeaking against the floor and the smack of skin on leather. Soon enough the Keio team would arrive to join their warmup, the stands would fill with spectators, and the game would be on.

Tooru took a deep breath to stem the excitement that coiled in his stomach, focussing on what was right in front of him as he warmed up his muscles. Yaku jogged beside him, just as he had on the first day, and asked, “How do you think we’ll fare against Keio, then?”

Tooru reflected on the few videos he’d found of their matches from the previous year, their strongest players and their favourite tactics, and he hummed thoughtfully.

“Who knows? With the addition of their new players, their game style has probably completely changed.”

“You think they’ll put first years in the match? I don’t expect to move from the bench this time, not like the practice match. They care about this one, after all. The whole university does.”

It was true. While volleyball may not have been the most popular of sports, Waseda and Keio’s age-old rivalry was enough to draft in half the campus to support them. There were posters all over campus advertising each team’s battle, emails from the chancellor wishing them good luck, and the constant reminder of the competition’s famed culmination with the baseball game in autumn. This was no simple practice match.

“I wouldn’t be so sure about that. If you put in enough effort and prove yourself, then you deserve a place on the team, first year or not. I’m certainly aiming to be on the court this match, and I know for sure that there’s at least one person at Keio who wants the same.”

Yaku glanced over at the doors to the gym, which were still standing open, awaiting their visitors.

“Huh. You know someone on Keio’s team?”

“You could say that.” Tooru felt his lips twitch at the thought of seeing Iwa-chan again. It would be the first time they’d seen each other in person since they’d left Miyagi in April, and the anticipation was almost too much to bear. Would he have grown taller, be stronger? Would he look different, speak differently, _play_ differently? What would it be like to face him head on at last, to pit his own strengths and weaknesses against him?

Tooru forced his feet forward with every thought, let the determination fuel him in his warm-up, slamming the ball hard over the net until his palms stung and his breath came out in heavy pants.

“Oikawa, don’t overwork yourself before the match has even begun! You need to preserve some energy for the actual game,” the coach ordered, and Tooru straightened up with a grin.

“Does that mean you’ll be putting me on the court then?” he asked, tilting his head inquiringly. The coach’s expression twitched for a moment, but he didn’t reply.

“Just get over there and sit down for a bit. I want you watching that knee, okay?” Tooru saluted playfully and did as told, chugging from his water and watching the stands fill with people. There were students aplenty, armed with banners and foam hands as though they were at an official league game, rather than a university rivalry match. The Waseda supporters were out in full force, practising their chants before the match began, but as Tooru watched, a sea of blue and white was beginning to gather, the Keio supporters exchanging friendly banter with their rivals across the stands. If the other students were starting to arrive, then surely…?

The noise in the gym picked up as the Keio team entered, pushing a cart of volleyballs through the door to begin setting up on the other side of the net. They formed an imposing presence, a group of around twenty-five beginning to bump a ball back and forth. Their captain hurried over to greet the Waseda team, grinning and sharing a joke with his counterpart before he returned to start their warm-up.

Tooru scanned the group, his eyes drawn immediately to Hajime and the dark blue 19 in the middle of his chest. He looked different, taller perhaps, with a confident tilt to his posture and an unbridled strength lingering beneath his skin, waiting to be unleashed. Keio’s blue and white reminded him strongly of Kitagawa Daiichi, and for a moment it was a younger Hajime standing in front of him, dragging him away from practice by the collar. Older Hajime was both the same yet different; he laughed with new friends and used his limbs in ways he hadn’t been able to before, yet the lines of his body and the warmth of his smile was still the same.

_What else? What else is new, Iwa-chan?_

As though he heard his name being called, Hajime turned and caught sight of Tooru, lips parting softly as their eyes locked.

_I want to learn you all over again._

“That’s the guy you know?” Yaku appeared beside him, hands on his hips.

“Yeah, that’s Iwa-chan.”

“Iwa-chan?” Yaku huffed a laugh as Hajime turned to talk to Sawamura, Tooru sighing wistfully. “I wouldn’t have put him down as a nickname type.”

“Everyone’s a nickname type when it comes to me, Yakkun.”

“It’ll be weird playing against people we know, won’t it? I’ve played Sawamura a bunch of times, so I feel like I know what to expect, but at the same time it’ll be totally different.”

“I forgot you’d played against Karasuno. Do you recognise anyone else here?”

“Nope, but I’ve heard from a few others who are preparing for the Tournament at the end of the summer. Even if they don’t make the starting lineup, it’ll be strange to see them on the other side of the net. I’ll probably end up passing the ball to them out of habit and losing us the point.”

“Yakkun, you’re way too professional to do something that silly, have a little faith.”

After the designated warm-up time had ended, the coach called them into a huddle, brandishing the whiteboard with their tactics on it. He had to raise his voice to be heard over the cheerleaders who were firing up the crowd, and the team ducked their heads together, arms around each other’s shoulders.

“The Keio today won’t be the same Keio you faced a few months ago,” he said, the older students nodding gravely, “but we’re not the same either. Each of you has grown in strength, and the new season brings a fresh perspective. Just do your best in the first set and we’ll take it from there.”

The team cheered, fist bumping and patting each other’s backs as they took up their positions on the court. Neither Tooru nor Hajime were in the starting six, but that was to be expected. It at least gave them time to observe the opposing team in close quarters, deliberately trying to ignore each other to rein in their excitement. But Tooru couldn’t help the way his legs shook with the ache to be out there on the court, his fingers twitching every time the ball flew to their side.

His eyes were drawn to Keio’s setter, the third year Hajime had mentioned over the phone. It was obvious that he had confidence, and rightly so, since his attacks were well thought out and often successful. Watching him just made Tooru wonder how he would sync with Hajime, and the jealousy began to crawl at the back of his throat. There was no way that this setter could ever be better for Hajime than Tooru was. He could never predict his exact movements like Tooru could. He didn’t know Hajime’s peak jump height, the drag of his limbs when he was exhausted or the set of his jaw when he was in the zone, wouldn’t know the difference between attacks simply by the rhythm of Hajime’s footsteps. He would never know him like Tooru did.

Waseda were leading 20-16 in the first set when the whistle blew for a member change. The crowd murmured in confusion, since Waseda weren’t bringing in a pinch server, but rather Keio were swapping in two players. The first was a middle blocker, who was slightly shorter than the guy he was replacing but bright-eyed and bushy-tailed, obviously a first year. And the second…

“That’s a brave move,” Yaku muttered beside him, but Tooru wasn’t paying attention, instead watching as Hajime’s team welcomed him to the court. Hajime rolled his neck as he usually did and flexed his fingers before sinking into a crouch, prepared for the swing of the ball. Tooru glanced over to their side of the net, where Yudai was preparing to serve, and in the seconds it took for the ball to arc high over his head in the service toss, Tooru knew the exact mistake Yudai was going to make.

The middle blocker had a fairly powerful serve. There were better servers on the team, but he was strong and had a decent control over the ball, sending it right to the opposing team’s chink in their armour just as Tooru himself would have. Naturally, that was going to be one of the first years, those with less experience receiving serves with such force behind them, and those who hadn’t yet learnt how best to connect the ball to their setter. Locking onto this target would surely win him a service ace and a cheer from the crowd.

What he hadn’t anticipated was Hajime’s steely resolve, and the strength that came with years of being Tooru’s guinea pig, witnessing every evolution of that killer serve and learning just how to respond to each one. When the ball whizzed over to their side, Hajime dropped low, bumping the ball to the centre of the court before he pushed back off the floor and was up and running again. Within seconds the setter had sent it to their ace spiker, who had slammed it right off the blockers’ fingertips and out of the court. A delighted roar went up from the Keio supporters, and Tooru had to bite his cheek to stop himself from grinning at his own team’s frustration.

The whistle immediately blew for a Waseda timeout.

“All right, looks like we abandon that tactic,” the coach said, pacing back and forth as the team muttered to each other. “Let’s just imagine that this is the fully-fledged team we’ll see come the tournament. Don’t expect them to show any weaknesses, and don’t reveal any of your own in turn. Is that clear?” The team nodded. “Good. We’re still two points ahead, so just keep going with this set. Perhaps next we’ll show them the power of _our_ first years.”

Tooru felt Yaku pinch his side excitedly as the team dispersed and returned to the court.

“You knew that was going to happen, didn’t you?”

“I had an inkling.”

“Let me guess, you know a way around it?” Tooru shrugged.

“I can’t stop Iwa-chan from receiving Yudai’s serves. That’s something for Yudai himself to work on, not me. But I can think of a few other ways of diminishing the impact of a successful pass. I’ll just need a little bit of cooperation...”

Keio had narrowed down the points difference by the end of the first set, but Waseda still took it 25-23. The teams seemed to be fairly equally matched, catching every spike with a block and following every movement like hawks. The crowd could tell that it was going to be a close match, perhaps even taken to the fifth set, and the excitement was palpable.

In the break between sets, Kobayashi came to stand beside Tooru, a towel resting over his shoulders as he caught his breath back.

“You look eager,” he noted between chugs of water. “You wanna be out there?”

“Don’t we all?” Tooru shrugged.

“I guess so, but looks like you’ve got something in particular on your mind. You got some beef with one of the Keio lot?” A smile flickered to life on Tooru’s lips.

“Not quite.”

“Well, whatever it is, looks like now’s your chance. Coach is giving me a much needed rest.” Kobayashi grinned, turning to talk to another third year and leaving Tooru staring through the net at where Hajime was talking to Sawamura, throat dry. Any minute now they would be back on the court, playing against each other, properly playing for points. Although Tooru had always said that he wouldn’t use his own teammates’ weaknesses against them, Hajime was no longer his teammate. Best friend, yes, but not a teammate. If Tooru had to accept that, then he was going to make the most of the situation and make sure Hajime got the message.

When they moved back to the court for the second set, he heard the gossip in the stands begin to focus around them.

“Look, it’s the Grand King again! I was wondering if they would put him in this match.”

“It’s probably just retaliation, since Keio have kept their two first years in as well. Just the coaches showing off their new talent, I reckon.”

“No, no, it’s more than that, I’m sure. I think those two know each other. I recognise 19’s face.”

“So they played on the same team before? This’ll be an interesting set, then! They probably know exactly what the other is going to do.”

 _It’s more than just that_ , Tooru thought, his skin tingling where he could sense Hajime’s eyes on him. _We know each other inside out. If I can second guess him, he’ll second guess me right back._

Tooru heard Yudai hiss his name and raise his eyebrows at him, jerking his head at Hajime questioningly. Tooru hadn’t yet developed a signal system for this team, since he wasn’t the official setter, so their communication existed within cries of each other’s names and simple hand gestures. As Yudai cupped his mouth to hide his whispering from the other team, Tooru’s smile lifted with an idea.

The serve soared over the net and into the waiting receive of their libero, who passed it smoothly to Tooru. He glanced to his left where Yudai was moving forward into the lead-up footwork and nodded, knowing that Hajime’s eyes were on him the whole time. Fujinaka appeared at his side as expected, drawing blockers to him with his purposeful stride, and Tooru’s eyes flickered to him before he fixed them back on Yudai, arms outstretched as the ball came closer and closer.

As soon as he saw the bend of Hajime’s knees as he prepared to spring up into a block right in front of him, he knew he’d caught him. They jumped at the same time, Hajime reaching his peak height as Tooru’s fingertips pushed the ball with a flick of his wrists. Inches away from each other, separated only by the thin net, Tooru could see the widening of Hajime’s eyes when he realised he’d been tricked. The ball he’d expected to be tipped over the net and bounced off his forearms was powered down the line by Yudai, who shouted with joy at scoring the first point of the set before his feet had even touched the ground again.

Tooru felt Yudai yank him into a quick hug, as the blocker said, “How’d you manage to draw all three blockers away from me like that? It was even better than in practice!”

Tooru grinned, looking over his shoulder at Hajime, whose brow was furrowed. Of course he was frustrated; he’d followed Tooru’s instructions perfectly, two glances to the side taking in all his options, a focus on one particular spiker in the perfect position, before tipping the ball over when the opposition least expected it. Hajime had known that would happen, which was exactly why Tooru couldn’t allow it to happen. That Yudai thought it was simply a development of the sets they’d been practising at training was an added bonus, the trust between setter and attacker cementing itself neatly between them.

Still, it was only one point out of many and, just as expected, Hajime bounced right back from that accident, this time waiting for the ball to move before following it, not following Tooru but not entirely disregarding him either. When he blocked, he chased the ball, not the spikers; when he received, his eyes were always focussed on the centre of the court, his goal within sight. Although it made things more troublesome for them, Tooru couldn’t help but feel a swell of pride, even when it scored points for Keio. It was difficult to be totally ruthless with him, and seeing Hajime’s grin at successfully spiking past their blockers still left him wanting to join in as he’d always done before.

Tooru caught Hajime watching him all the time, both on and off court, during and between sets, and knew he was being observed. Hajime would have been looking for changes just has Tooru had, perhaps would have noticed the difference between the old Tooru who had been in charge of the team and the obedient Tooru who was still trying to get a reading on his new spikers. He remembered the way Tooru had endlessly practised jump float receives after their encounter with Karasuno, but perhaps he wouldn’t have expected his digs to be as quick as they were. And in the same way, Tooru noticed how Hajime’s single foot take-offs were more stable than they had been, left the blockers blown away by the sheer power of his swing. He noticed that Hajime had changed.

When Tooru met Hajime’s eyes through the net for the fourth set, they seemed to say both _nice to meet you_ and _welcome home._  

**

**Welcome to the blog of Waseda University Men’s Volleyball Club!**

77th Waseda-Keio match – RESULTS!!

2013-06-16 18:43

Today was the 77th annual match between Waseda and Keio, held at Waseda University Memorial Gymnasium. As always, thank you very much to everyone who came to support us!

Here are the results:

Waseda-Keio

25-23

26-24

21-25

28-26

The final set count was 3-1.

We are really excited to have won, and now we can start our preparations for the Intercollegiate tournament with a boost! Keio, we’ll be seeing you again next year, so be prepared (^_~)

**

After the match was finished, the teams lined up on either side of the net, exchanging the customary handshake and congratulations. They seemed to know each other well, taking their time chatting to each member and bantering back and forth, so that the captains had to usher everyone along for them to exit the gym in time. Once Tooru reached Hajime and clasped his hand, he ducked under the net and threw his arms around him, shoving his face into the warm crook of Hajime’s neck.

“I missed you, Iwa-chan,” he whispered, voice barely audible above the noise of the others surrounding them, but, as always, Hajime heard him and replied in kind,

“I missed you too.”

Tooru could feel the way Hajime’s cheeks lifted into a smile and the weight of arms wrapped around his shoulders was the most comforting feeling he could imagine. Two months had been far too long for them to be apart, not when they were so used to their hands brushing every day as they walked home, Tooru resting his chin on Hajime’s shoulder, grabbing his bag strap as they navigated the school corridors.

“Hey, Iwaizumi, save your emotional reunion for later! Coach wants to round up,” one of Hajime’s teammates called, and Tooru pulled back reluctantly, still holding Hajime’s shoulders at arm’s length.

“Come back to mine once we’re changed?” he suggested. “It’s only a few stops on the metro.”

“’Course.”

Tooru’s hands lingered even as Hajime was tugged away by his teammates, fingertips tingling at the sensation, and he barely heard his own teammates chuckling behind him.

“So that’s what it is, the king and his knight, huh?” Yudai teased, nudging Tooru playfully. “There was some intense staring going on during that match, I tell you. I thought you wanted to skin him alive, but perhaps it was something else?”

“Perhaps indeed,” Tooru said, mind wandering. He changed in a daze, still buzzing from the thrill of victory and the joy at seeing Hajime’s smile again. Now that the match was over, they had no more practice for the day, which left them free to enjoy each other’s company for the first time in forever. With no assignments or meetings getting in the way, they could just chill like they always had.

Hajime was waiting for him at the entrance to the gym, standing beneath a plain umbrella. He rolled his eyes when he saw Tooru’s empty hands.

“Of course you didn’t think to bring one. Do you have anything going on in that head _other_ than volleyball?”

“I just knew that Iwa-chan would let me share his!” Tooru sang, ducking under the umbrella as they walked to the metro station. “And yes, I sometimes think about my Contract Law class. And about girls. Can you believe we have cheerleaders now? University is so cool!”

Hajime snorted.

“Let me guess, now my voicemail will be filled with details about your new, 300-strong fanbase. Looks like little has changed after all.”

“Come on, Iwa-chan, you should know me better than that. I wouldn’t want to make you jealous after all.”

Hajime prodded him sharply in the side, snickering at Tooru’s yelp.

They weaved their way through the metro station, Hajime following Tooru’s lead with his umbrella dripping at his side. This area of Tokyo wasn’t as busy as the centre, so they managed to get a seat on the train, watching as the raindrops were whipped from the windows by the speed of the headwind.

“Am I actually allowed to visit you at your dorms? We’re not supposed to let anybody into ours, it’s a bit ridiculous,” Hajime said, shifting the bag on his shoulder.

“We’re not supposed to at mine either, but so many people live there that they can’t remember everyone’s faces exactly. You’ll just pass off as another student.”

“Yeah, except for the big ‘Keio University’ written across the back of my jacket.”

“Details, details.” Tooru waved a nonchalant hand before standing up, adjusting his grip on the handrail. “Almost there, Iwa-chan!” The train quickly slid to a halt at the station, pulled Tooru forward with the force of its stop so that he nearly tripped over his own feet. Hajime laughed loudly, shoving Tooru out of the doors and onto the platform.

The walk to Tooru’s accommodation was short but sweet, most of the people milling around the station also university students. He waved at a couple of people he usually passed on his way to and from practice, Hajime glancing around curiously at the buildings that sprung up alongside them. The streets may have been fairly lively, but inside the accommodation building was even busier, since the students were gathering in the common areas to spend the afternoon together. There were a few stragglers lingering at the tables in the canteen, and when they passed by the small study area, they could see that almost every desk was taken. This place really was full of life, and, Hajime noted with some relief, Tooru seemed to fit right in.

Tooru unlocked his bedroom door and nudged it open with a quiet ‘Ta-da!’, revealing the small space to Hajime. It was similar to his bedroom at home, with glow-in-the-dark stars on the ceiling and a few posters on the wall. His noticeboard was neatly arranged, with a few flyers and reminders pinned surrounding a calendar, which had been scribbled all over with dates for practice matches, assignments and so on. It felt surreal for Hajime to step into this rough recreation of Tooru’s bedroom back at home, since he felt like he’d lived in the place for his whole life, when in reality he’d just stepped inside.

He slid his shoes off by the door and dumped his bag at the foot of the bed, sprawling over the mattress as he was accustomed to do. Like clockwork, he felt the solid weight of Tooru landing on top of him, draped over his legs with his face buried in the duvet.

“That was exhausting,” Hajime groaned, sinking into Tooru’s alien print sheets. “Five set matches are really gruelling. The only people we’ve played five sets against before were Shiratorizawa.”

“Don’t even mention that name in this house,” Tooru scowled into the duvet, and Hajime’s chest shook with a laugh that Tooru felt in his bones. When he turned his head to look up at Hajime, he caught the other boy watching him, expression softer than Tooru usually saw it. “What are you staring at?”

“Nothing.”

“Iwa-chaaaan, you know I hate it when you keep stuff from me,” he whined, rolling over so that his weight was concentrated on the other boy’s chest. Hajime felt all the air leave his lungs and he shoved at Tooru’s body. “Come on, is there something on my face? Has my hair gone all frizzy from the rain?”

“Get off me, you massive lump,” Hajime grunted, doing his best to sit up and wriggle out from beneath Tooru.

“I am _not_ a massive lump.” Hajime smirked, looking down at Tooru from his new vantage point.

“You are. A massive, lanky lump of a boy.”

“Excuse you, Iwa-chan, I am a fully-fledged man.”

“Uh-huh. So it wasn’t you who squealed then started crying at his first sip of alcohol?”

“We’re not supposed to drink until we’re twenty!” Tooru protested indignantly. “How mean of you to hold that against me.”

Hajime pottered around the room while Tooru moaned at him incoherently, squinting to read the titles of his textbooks on the shelves and brushing his fingers over the few photos that Tooru had stuck to the wall. There was a group photo of Seijou during their final year, fresh from practice, when they’d all gathered together before the Spring Tournament began. Even Kyoutani had been convinced to come along by the promise of free food, and Hajime remembered his cheeks hurting from laughing so hard at Hanamaki’s jokes, their coaches watching over them kindly as they celebrated their growth throughout the year. The photo was well-worn at the edges, and Tooru had decorated it with stickers and doodles. Hajime himself was sporting a gel pen halo.

The desk was the only marked difference between Tooru’s old room and new room. He had always insisted that he couldn’t work in a messy space, and aimed to keep his desk as free from clutter as possible. Now, however, it was covered in books that had been stacked so high that they had tipped over, interspersed with notes on research cases, essay skills and spiking tips.

“Wow, you really were serious about this Alexander thing, weren’t you?” Hajime picked up one of the books from the library, flipping through it interestedly. Tooru raised his head from the bed, watching him closely. He knew that Hajime could easily look up the history online and learn everything then and there, but he still wanted to keep the worst from him. The more he had read about Alexander, the more similar their stories seemed, and Tooru was determined to make sure that his story wouldn’t end in the same way.

“Oh, yeah, I suppose so. It’s interesting, you know? Alexander was a pretty amazing guy. You know, he managed to tame a wild horse when he was twelve? Twelve! He was really attached to that horse and he named a city after it when it died.” Hajime snorted.

“Sounds like something you would do. Imagine saying you lived in ‘Kacchan-shi’. That’d be totally embarrassing.”

“Iwa-chaaan, don’t mentioned Kacchan, you’ll make me cry.”

“Really, though, is this going to be your new obsession? Maybe you should’ve done a History degree, rather than Law.”

“There’s no jobs in History, though. If volleyball falls through, I need something to fall back on. At least, that’s what Dad told me. I guess you wouldn’t know what it’s like to not have a certain job at the end of your degree, Dr Iwa-chan,” Tooru teased, receiving a light smack on the head.

“Well, while it’s a sensible idea, I doubt you’ll need a second chance. You telling me you aren’t planning on being a volleyball pro?”

 _That_ at least got Tooru to sit up for a moment, the challenging set to his jaw the only answer Hajime needed. Then he patted the space beside him and beckoned,

“Come on, you haven’t told me what you’ve been up to yet. I want to know everything.”

“Everything?” Hajime said, lounging next to Tooru so that their sides were pressed together. “Well, it’s pretty boring really. I get up, maybe go for a run, then I have classes all day, then I rush to the gym for practice and at the end of the day I pass out in bed. Much the same as you, I’d imagine, but with more work.”

Tooru inched closer, curling his body into Hajime’s.

“What are your classes like? Have you healed anyone yet?”

“Not quite. We don’t even really get started on the medical stuff until next year, it’s mostly just preparation this year. English lessons, maths and science, the usual stuff.”

Tooru hummed in acknowledgement, linking their fingers together.

“Iwa-chan sounds very busy.”

“Yeah, it’s kinda hectic. I think next year will be even worse, though, since we start doing labs, and I won’t be living on campus any more. I’ll have to start living like you and getting the train everywhere.”

“You aren’t staying in the dorms next year?”

“Nah. After the first year we’re centred at Shinanomachi so that we can be near the hospital, so I’ll be closer to the city centre. Staying on campus would be convenient for volleyball but not much else.”

“Shinanomachi’s near Waseda, isn’t it? Does that mean you’ll come to see me more?”

“You could’ve come to see me, too! It works both ways, it’s just that we’ve both been busy, right?”

Tooru nodded, his arms snaking around Hajime’s torso, and he felt the other’s warm hands settle on his back in response. Hajime sighed deeply, his breath ruffling Tooru’s hair.

“Next time we shouldn’t leave it so long to meet up. It feels like I’ve been away from you forever,” he confessed.

“We should go shopping or something. Get ramen in Shinjuku.”

“As if either of us could afford to go shopping in Shinjuku.”

“Window shopping, then.”

“I guess that’d be fun.”

“Mm, I’ll pencil it into the diary,” Tooru whispered, letting the steady sound of Hajime’s breathing soothe him.

“Good idea.”

“Hey, Hajime?” His hazel eyes flickered open at the use of his first name, watching as Tooru shifted so that their faces were level on the pillow. At this proximity he could see every detail of the other boy’s face, the warmth hidden in the creases around his eyes and the patch of stubble under his jaw that he’d neglected in the morning. His skin was still home, his rebellious hair still in the same style he’d had as a child, but he had become different in many ways. And, dare he say it, handsome too. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” he answered, lips curving into yet another contented smile, a manifest consequence of Tooru’s presence.

“No, I mean,” Tooru cut himself off, eyes darting to the side as he deliberated. One hand drifted to rest on Hajime’s cheek, and with his resolve firmly set, Tooru leant forward and brushed his lips softly against Hajime’s, long lashes tickling his skin as his eyes slid shut. Hajime’s grip shifted to draw Tooru closer by the waist as though he had been doing it his whole life, catching Tooru’s lips in a kiss that he hadn’t quite expected but now realised he definitely wanted.

“I missed you,” Tooru reiterated when he pulled back, cheeks flushed and lashes low.

“Ah,” Hajime croaked, nudging his nose into the crook of Tooru’s neck, and that was that.

**


End file.
